Her Heart, Her Choice: Jacob
by Kyouen
Summary: Jacob is the love of Bella's life... A day of bliss can quickly turn to anger, and Bella doesn't know if she can handle another crack to her fragile heart. Even after reconciliation, can one little phone call from someone who is no longer important ruin


"Jake, where are we going?" I asked, laughing at his excitement.

"You'll see," he answered gleefully, pulling me by the hand.

When Jake had asked me to come to Port Angeles, I was instantly reminded of that frightening night, and that only led me to thoughts of Edward. I think he saw my reluctance, but enough prodding, along with his infectious mood, and I was convinced it would be fun.

Finally he halted; I looked up, and my heart stuttered. It was the restaurant Edward had first taken me to.

"Bella?" Jacob was waiting expectantly, his face hurt and wounded looking. I gave him a tentative smile as I tried to collect my heart. "Do you want to go home?" He asked, clearly looking as though he didn't want to. I couldn't hurt him.

"No," I smiled reassuringly, "I'm starving."

When we had been seated, the same waitress with the black hair, though slightly longer, came and took our order. She seemed to recognize me, and ignored me again, speaking only to Jacob.

I again ordered the delicious mushroom ravioli, and after my insistence on how good it was, Jacob ordered the same.

We occupied ourselves with playful banter until our food arrived, hot and steaming, and I started eating right away.

"Mmm," I said, savoring the bite.  
"It really is good," Jake agreed, shoving three ravioli in his mouth.

"I had it the last time I was here, with Edward," I commented, realizing too late what had just come out of my mouth. I froze, peeking cautiously at Jacob.

His fist was clenched on his fork, and he was trembling with suppressed rage. He tensely chewed the bites in his mouth, swallowed, and then zoned in on me.

"With the bloodsucker, did you?" He tried to keep his tone light, but I knew too well how angry I had made him.

"Jake, don't be like that. I'm sorry okay?" I placed my hand on his, and he jerked away. I tried not to show him how much that had frightened me; Emily's scars were testament to the quick anger of a werewolf. "So tomorrow, is Emily making those yummy blueberry muffins?" I asked, trying vainly to bring our previous cheerfulness of the night.

Jacob grunted, shoving more ravioli angrily into his mouth.

I looked down, fighting my tears of anger. I just couldn't shove my memories of Edward away, and I thought being with Jacob with get rid of them. Instead, our fight was creating more cracks in my fragilely healed heart.

The waitress came back, took one look at us, and returned with the check. Jacob pulled out his wallet, and I put down the tip, feeling awkward about how things turned out.

"Come on, Bella." Jacob waited impatiently by the door, probably only wanting to bring me home, so he could be rid of me sooner.

The ride home was tense, the anger that filled the car almost palpable. "Thanks." I said neutrally, sliding out of the passenger seat. Charlie had left the light on for me.

"Yup." As soon as I shut the door, he drove away, with no wave or second glance. I scowled in the dark. Stupid werewolf.

I prayed there would be an answer. "Please pick up, please pick up," I mumbled into the phone, the dial tone ringing in my ear.

"Hello?"

"Billy," it was such a relief to hear an answer. "Can I speak to Jacob?"

"He's not here." I knew Billy well enough to know when he was lying. Besides, it was the umpteenth time I had called his house since the incident at the restaurant, so I knew the drill.

"Let me talk to him," I asked again, wishing Billy hadn't been at the house.

"He doesn't want to talk to you," he admitted. I didn't answer.

Finally, I mumbled into the mouthpiece, "Just tell him to call me, okay? I really need to talk to him."

"Sure, Bella." Since Jake hadn't called back, I wondered if he actually was going to let Jake know this time. I hope that Jake wasn't ignoring me on purpose. I set the phone in its cradle, pinching the bridge of my nose. I'd thought, after what Edward had done to me, that I would never feel intense pain stemming from my heart again. Jacob's repulsion hurt me more, because I knew he cared for me; while Edward had never loved me, only used me as a distraction.

But repressing unpleasant things had always been easy for me.

Even so, I went to bed early, my bad mood alerting even Charlie, and I didn't want to have a heart-to-heart with my father.

The tapping interrupting my vague dreams annoyed me. I sat up, shoving the blankets off, and glared angrily around. I hated when my sleep was interrupted.

Jacob's face at the window startled me, and I clutched at my chest, my heart pumping fiercely.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in a loud whisper, as I opened the window for him.

"I couldn't live with myself anymore, I had to apologize." He looked down at the floor, ashamed. "Sorry." He looked so miserable, that I had to smile.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling myself into his warm chest. "I missed you."

He kissed the top of my head. "I missed you too," he whispered.

"I was cold," I teased; I had missed his body warmth in my bed.

"We can remedy that right now," he replied, picking me up and plopping me back in my bed, jumping in next to me. Jacob pulled the blankets over both of us, tucking us in snuggly. "That better?" He asked, kissing my forehead.

I snuggled in closer against his chest, and he obligingly held me closer. "Mmhmm," I mumbled, closing my eyes. He kissed me again, and I relaxed. It was nice to know he would be there in the morning.

The phone rang, startling both Jacob and I awake at its shrill tone.

"What's that?" Jacob mumbled, still half asleep.

"Hello?" I answered, wondering who had decided to wake me up from my sleep.

"Bella?" My heart beat a little quicker as I recognized the voice, but it couldn't be. I sat up bolt upright, upsetting Jacob.

"Who is this?" It came out more sharply than I intended, but I was shocked. Edward? Calling me?

"It doesn't matter." There was a short pause, and I knew he was choosing his words carefully. "Are you all right?"

"Bells? Who is it?" Jacob was sitting on the floor, looking at me quizzically. I dismissed him with a wave of my hand and snapped into the phone. "Yes, of course I'm alright."

There was a sigh of relief on the other end. "Good."

"It's the leech, isn't it?" Jacob asked harshly, a scowl on his face. I gave him a look to silence him.

"Why are you calling here?"

There was silence on the other end, while I quietly fumed. How dare he call here, right as I was getting my life back together? I was about to open my mouth to tell him this, when he spoke.

"Just forget I ever called. I never called, okay?" The quiet urgency in his voice reminded me of the time in Phoenix, when James had attacked me, and Edward had been praying for me to live.

"That's no problem." I hung the phone up.

Surprisingly, I felt nothing. No anger, no remorse; only a sort of contemplation. Edward was gone from my life, and I'd already accepted that. Months ago, his phone call would've upset me; pushed me over the edge, and back into my zombie days, but now it was in the past. He was in the past.

I can't lie, and say my heart is completely healed. Because it isn't. Even now, things Jacob does reminds me of Edward. The whisper of his hand as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear; the sad smile he sometimes wears when he thinks I'm not looking; the same fear that my being with him is an endangerment to my wellbeing. Little everyday glances full of love that reminded me so much of Edward, but are slowly becoming things that remind me only of Jacob.

Occasionally, a pang runs through my broken heart; a pang full of the grief for what Edward and I could have been, but were not destined to be. In those moments, my thoughts are brought back to Jacob; brought back to the steady care he had for me, and the love that helped my heart bloom.

The love Edward and I had was like the quick, fleeting love of Romeo and Juliet; whose fates, like ours, consigned to move against. Though instead of losing to fate, I had Jacob. A love that bloomed like the love of Edward Ferrars and Elinor Dashwood's; running a course rugged and broken, but ending together in a straight line.

"Bella?" Jake asked cautiously, snapping me out of my thoughts. I smiled at him.

"No one." I answered. No one at all.


End file.
